


At the heart of it

by amarmeme



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Cheese, F/M, King Alistair (Dragon Age), Marriage of Convenience, Past Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Romance, Roses, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26344801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amarmeme/pseuds/amarmeme
Summary: Evelyn Trevelyan managed to arrange a marriage between herself and Ferelden's king, but had no idea what to expect of the man.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Trevelyan (Dragon Age)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 36
Collections: Black Emporium 2020





	At the heart of it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [morrezela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/gifts).



Josephine had arranged the marriage. It all went accordingly and properly, with little fanfare. Evelyn preferred it that way. Better to conduct business as such, and not let the whims of romanticism ruin such a momentous occasion. 

Alistair had agreed with very little to add to the proposal. And Evelyn let Josephine plan the details down to the moment. After the course of a brisk morning service, Evelyn Trevelyan was Queen of Ferelden. 

They sat down to a simple breakfast feast. A long table was set up with white cloth, fresh flowers from the field and an array of sweetmeats and cakes on gold platters. The servants were invited, and the few of Evelyn's companions who could make the trip. This included Cole and Maryden, the pair sticking out like a thumb at the end of the long table. Many of her companions had their own lives to lead, and Evelyn did not begrudge them for it. If only she could do the same, leave the Inquisition behind. Solas was still a threat building behind a surface she could not penetrate. 

It was her wedding day, however, and she would not be uncouth. Her husband deserved more than business detachment. She shook Solas from her mind and focused instead on the offerings before her, including all types of cheeses favored by the king. 

"I think you said this was your favorite kind?" She speared a piece of Stinky Cleric; the pale white cheese smelled like a wet barn. 

“You’re better off not smelling it your first time.”

“Too late,” she frowned. Determined to stay the course, Evelyn plopped the pungent cheese in her mouth. She chewed the piece with a sour look on her face, despite the creamy burst of flavor. The smell was far too overwhelming, and she gagged the bit down. 

Evelyn coughed, tears in her eyes. “Ahh, ha. That was something.” Alistair patted her back as she swallowed gulps of water. 

“I feel honored you even tried.”

The rest of the breakfast went well, the guests enjoyed the fare and talked and laughed among one another. Alistair and Evelyn spoke briefly, thanking everyone. The celebration concluded and the newlyweds remained alone with nothing to do but wait on pins and needles for the evening’s event: consummating the marriage. 

“If you don’t mind,” Evelyn said with a hesitancy most unlike herself. “I would like to freshen up before ... tonight.”

Her husband cleared his throat, ears turning pink at the unspoken words. “Yes, ah, fine. I’ll see you then, then.”

Evelyn escaped quickly, a nervous smile plastered on her face. Alistair was _ quite  _ handsome. There was a certain amount of pressure in bedding a king, even as the queen. She did not doubt herself capable in that regard, but it had been some time since Evelyn last enjoyed a tussle in the sheets. All kinds of thoughts passed through her head that had not occurred before: what if he was a secret lecher or into things she just wasn’t ready for? Josephine had not dug up anything untoward, but what if he was really very good at hiding things?

_ Stop tricking yourself! He is a kind and good man.  _

Oh, but if that was the case, why was he not already married? A king could have his pick of matches. Evelyn thought about all the interactions they’d had to date, few and far between: Redcliff, after Halamshiral, once before the wedding. Three interactions in as many years. 

_ Am I nuts? _

Evelyn escaped outside. She had to ground herself, and a good breath of fresh air always did her head wonders. The palace gardens were bursting with life and she fancied picking a bouquet for her nightstand. The gardens however, were fashioned with a hedge maze in the center, blush colored rose bushes reaching higher than her head. Evelyn walked into the maze, entranced by the shades of roses within: pink and mauve, garnet and cerise. The fragrance of the flowers filled her senses, and by the first few turns she was completely lost, but completely relaxed. 

_ Well, I may as well find the center,  _ she thought. 

Evelyn walked on, brushing her hand against the hedgerow, feeling the soft petals beneath her fingertips. She could not pick them, despite how beautiful they appeared. In time she found the heart of the maze. A large fountain emerged, water spilling over a beautiful stone statue of a woman. It was not Andraste for the pointed ears gave her away, but the figure was like a hero out of a tale. She held a sword in one hand and a rose in the other, and faced the direction of dawn. The woman’s likeness occurred to Evelyn just as Alistair appeared from the other side of the water. 

_ The Hero of Ferelden. _

“There you are,” he said, nearly dropping an armful of roses.

“Were you expecting me?” She hurried over to catch a few flowers. Their hands touched as they both reached for a delicate pink rose and Evelyn nearly gasped at the shock of feeling in such an innocent graze of the hand. 

“No,” he said at last, putting the roses back in order. “I ah, just meant there you are, in the maze.” 

“Here I am,” she replied awkwardly. Alistair juggled the flowers. “Let me -- let me take some of these for you.”

They exchanged roses between them, a manageable bouquet each. Evelyn smiled brightly, and he returned it, a disarming kind of grin that caught her breath. Her husband was handsome indeed. 

“What are these for?” she asked, wanting to fill the space. Not knowing how to address the real question beside her, the woman in the fountain. 

“They’re for you,” he replied, as if that was clear as day. 

“ _ All  _ of them?” she laughed. There were two generous bouquets between them.

“Well,” he said, blush returning. “I’d planned to surprise you with a few, ah, petals on the bed. Your ambassador may have negotiated any romance out of the wedding, but if I’m not allowed to romance my wife in the marriage bed, what’s the point?”

Evelyn opened her lips to speak, but couldn’t say anything intelligent. That _ would  _ have been quite the surprise. She felt sorry for spoiling it, fleeing her rooms when she’d assumed the worst (at a moment of insecurity, of course). Here was the real king, kind and romantic, flowers in hand to sweetly surprise his wife. 

“I’m sorry I ruined the surprise,” she said. Alistair didn’t seem bothered by it, shaking his head slightly with a soft smile. 

“I’ll just have to think of another, then.” 

He leaned in to kiss her, lips soft and reassuring. They’d kissed once before, at the wedding. That had been perfunctory and performative. Now the true Alistair revealed himself — romantic and tender, thoughtful and considerate. Excitement swelled in her breast. This was not love, not yet, but already she was swept up in the possibilities. He held her close with one arm, the other occupied with the bounty of blooms. Evelyn grinned as he pressed open her lips and sought a deeper kiss. Her heart threatened to leap out of her chest. Then, they broke apart and gazed into each other’s eyes, seeing their forever match clearer than before. 

“Let me give you a tour,” he said, rubbing the small of her back. “You could easily get lost.”

Evelyn smoothed his arm with the back of her rose-filled hand, moving forward for one last quick kiss. “I’m glad I did. But it seems we’ve found each other.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this is so achingly sweet and cliched. I just had to! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. :)


End file.
